It was in the
core of the evening rush hour on Jinja Road and nobody was going anywhere – not
even the boda’s who are usually able to weave in and out of traffic or the
Toyota Land Cruiser’s with tinted window carrying some self-elevated politician
who thinks his driver is entitled to break every single road traffic law to get
him home with the minimal amount of fuss.
After more than
an hour of idling, the traffic started to move – half-a-car’s length before it
came to a halt. I saw no point of turning over the engine just to move less
than half a car’s length. Minutes later, the ride behind me hooted. Looking in the
rear view mirror, I took it that the driver of the Mitsubishi had hit his horn
in error while trying to keep himself busy in the jam. Next, he flashed
headlights. Then the hooting became relentless as did the flashing of
headlights.
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| If We All Made One Line, Traffic Would Move Much Faster |
It was easy to
work out where he was going with the flashing and hooting. He wanted me to edge
up right to the bumper of the car in front of me. And before knew it, I was out
of my ride and stomping up to his. He sensed trouble and quickly tried to raise
the window only to realize he had turned the engine off. By the time he got the
engine going I already had my head through the window and was berating him. He
duly apologized saying that he was only wondering why I wasn’t moving forward
yet, the car ahead of me had moved. Really!
This does not only
happen in traffic jams. It happens at the ATM, the supermarket checkout lines
and just about anywhere that necessitates queuing up.
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| When You See Me At The ATM, Don't Que Up Right Behind My Back |
I had given the
person in front of me ample room to do her ATM withdrawal with some privacy.
When the guy behind me turned up, he was literally on my back – way closer than
a coat of Sadolin paint on a wall. He was breathing heavy down my neck that I
had to turn round, push and scold: “With all the space there is, why do you
want to rub up next to me?” Perplexed, he stepped back but not far enough
because I could still feel him breathing down my neck. He was also aggressively
looking over my shoulder because he could see space between me and the woman at
the ATM. In his mind, he figured it was wasted space that five people+ could
squeeze into.
Everything at
the checkout counter was orderly, but as soon as Dude took his place two places
behind me, everything went south. Lady-In-Front-Of-Me was still offloading the
contents of her basket onto the checkout counter when I noticed Dude stealthy edging
Chap behind me out of the line and offloading his purchases. Coughing politely
to alert him that I was next to be served and there was also Chap behind me, he
said: “Oh don’t mind me, I’m just putting my stuff in the corner.” I let it
slide but braced for the pending confrontation.
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| Even At The Check Out Till, There Is Always Someone Who Wants To Jump The Line |
Once Teller had
picked and scanned the last item of Lady-In-Front Of Me, Dude quickly invaded
the space, pushed his purchases forward whilst in every possible way trying to
feign ignorance that there were two people ahead of him. Obviously, I lashed
out.
“Jeez man, are
you blind and being funny or you are being an idiot too?” He was startled but with
a most arrogant demeanor said: “It looked like you didn’t want to be served because
you weren’t putting your things on the counter.” I ought to have slapped him
into the oblivions of Kitgum but instead made do with a couple of tumbavu’s.
Photos: Monitor.co.ug, sunrise.ug, devex.com
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